


there will be time

by closingdoors



Series: Pepperony Week 2018 [4]
Category: Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Pepper isn't a baby-person, Pepperony Week, Pepperony week 2018, Post-Iron Man 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-24 02:39:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15620697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/closingdoors/pseuds/closingdoors
Summary: "Five tests, lined up neatly on the bathroom counter, stare up at her."or, prompt four: family





	there will be time

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt for today was actually 'NSFW' but as I don't write that sort of thing for Tony/Pepper, I took an alternative prompt from the original list people voted for instead: family. This fic is set shortly after IM3. Title taken from the song by Mumford and Sons.

****It happens on a Tuesday.

Five tests, lined up neatly on the bathroom counter, stare up at her. All positive.

Pepper presses her hand to her mouth to catch the stuttered breath she lets out. _Okay,_ she thinks. And that’s it: _Okay._

“Miss Potts.”

JARVIS’s voice floats through the room. She startles, and the tests clatter to the floor loudly.

“I apologise for alarming you, Miss Potts,” the AI says calmly. “I wondered if you wanted me to run a blood test to confirm the pregnancy.”

Pepper crouches, scooping the tests up only to deliberate over where to place them again.

“No thank you, JARVIS,” she replies a little shakily. She clears her throat. “Where can I throw these?”

She doesn’t add on the _where Tony won’t find them_ and trusts the AI understands.

“That can be taken care of,” JARVIS informs her. Pepper lets out a deep breath. “If you’d kindly dispose of the tests in the second guest bathroom, Mr Stark will not be made aware of them.”

Pepper looks both ways down the hallway before she steps out of the bathroom, clutching the tests to her chest. Tony’s two floors down in the workshop and yet she still waits for him to catch her as she half-jogs down the hallway and through the second guest bedroom. She shoves the tests in the trashcan and her head spins. Pepper catches herself on the counter, running the cold water from the faucet and splashing it over her face.

“Miss Potts?”

“Yes, JARVIS?”

Pepper catches sight of her reflection in the mirror. She looks a little pale, her skin an oddly green hue, but other than that there’s _nothing._ No indication of what’s going on inside.

“I’d like to offer you my congratulations.”

Pepper laughs weakly as she closes her eyes. Sometimes she hates Tony for programming such a sympathetic AI.

“Thank you, JARVIS.”

  


*

  


Pepper has the blood test done with her OB-GYN. Not that she doesn’t trust JARVIS, as far as she can trust a sentient AI, but she doesn’t trust that Tony won’t pry.

Not that she necessarily _needs_ the blood test, either. She’s been as regular as clockwork from the age of thirteen. Every month, she crosses the days off on her calendar, until Tuesday. When she’d realised her period that month hadn’t come.

She’s done the math in her head. She puts the date of conception around the time Tony recovered from his surgery. Though they’d been eager to reacquaint their bodies, especially following her fall, they’d been careful. She’s taken the pill at the same time every day for sixteen years and it hasn’t failed her yet.

Until now.

Her OB-GYN is a kind woman, who rambles about the pill only being ninety-nine percent effective, when she registers the almost catatonic-like state Pepper has found herself in. She tries to smile when the woman confirms her pregnancy, but her cheeks ache with the force. Then she’s laying on her back in the dark, gel on her stomach while her OB-GYN tells her that _there’s many factors to consider at her age_ as though Pepper wasn’t at high risk to begin with, what with her boyfriend being Iron Man, she being the CEO of his company, and her body just recovering from experimentation from a scientist who used to be infatuated with her.

Pepper leaves the appointment with a copy of the ultrasound she didn’t look at, and an estimated five week pregnancy date. She goes home and has dinner with Tony, who asks her if she had a long day at work, and she picks at her food before telling him she’s tired and heads to bed.

  


*

 

 

She almost wishes that she had morning sickness. Then it’d be easier. Tony would notice, and his mind might often be processing seven different things at once, but it wouldn’t be hard for him to figure out. That way she wouldn’t have to tell him.

Friday rolls around. Date night. She ditches her work suit for a loose dress, the kind that’s beautiful but still allows her to feel comfortable, and spends too much time looking at herself sideways. She curls her hand over her stomach, cupping it. There’s nothing there, still flat as usual, despite the knowledge she holds. Pepper turns away just as Tony enters the room. Another missed opportunity.

“What, you don’t like it?” Tony asks, as she picks at her food, sharing a private booth with him in the new Thai restaurant they’ve been planning to go to for weeks. “Something wrong?”

“It’s fine,” she lies, taking a bite and smiling.

“No, it’s not.”

“It is.”

Tony sets his cutlery down, wipes at his mouth with his napkin. His eyes dart around before settling back on her.

“You’ve been maudlin for days, Pep. What is it? What’d I do?”

“It’s not you,” she sighs, setting her cutlery down too.

“Sure it is. The problem’s always me.”

“The problem’s _me,_ ” she snaps.

Tony pauses. Pepper covers her face with her hands. They aren’t _this._ God, what is wrong with her?

“Can we just go home?” She murmurs through her palms.

He clears his throat. “Sure.”

When she finally has the nerve to come out of hiding, he’s shoving bills into the waitresses hands. He settles his palm on her back as she stands, guiding her to the front of the restaurant. The valet pulls the car around and Tony holds the door out for her, all while she refuses to meet his eyes.

They drive home in silence and she can _hear_ him overthinking. For once, she can’t afford to think about him. She rests her head against the chair, staring through glassy eyes out of the window. For once, she thinks about herself.

Kids hadn’t been something she had ever ruled out, per se. It’s just that’d there been no _time,_ so she hadn’t allowed herself the luxury to dream. She thinks she could possibly be a good mother, but she’s often feared her own pragmatism would interfere. She likes deadlines. She likes order. Sure, Tony throws those things out of the window half the time, but she’s allowed to yell and nag at him all she wants, until he finally gives in to her. That’s where the satisfaction of her job comes from. But she can’t yell at a baby just because it won’t fall asleep at exactly six o’clock on the dot.

Pepper thinks of her sister, of her nieces and nephews, and how overnight her sister had changed. Her sister had bloomed into motherhood without giving it a second thought. Yet this pregnancy has Pepper up all night, has her ruining date nights and snapping at Tony and _hiding_ things. Isn’t she supposed to step into this naturally? Isn’t she supposed to be happy?

Tony takes her hand after he opens her door for her. Once they’re back inside the house he pauses her for a moment to brush his lips against her temple.

“I love you,” he murmurs, dusts another kiss there, and releases her.

Pepper takes a long shower. Her hands search, once again, for some evidence of her pregnancy. For the stomach, the stretch marks, the awful swollen ankles. The soreness and the aching her sister complained of. She had always seen it in her eyes during her pregnancies, the muted pain, the exhaustion buried deep. Is that what she’ll become? A walking, talking, tired incubator. She doesn’t think of herself as selfish, but the thought of her life changing so drastically - of her own needs, of Tony’s, becoming faded and afterthoughts - gives her reason to pause.

After she dresses, she settles in bed, waiting for Tony to appear. She’s in the middle of reading an article about baby blues when his shadow falls across the doorway.

She glances up and his eyes are bloodshot.

“Are you leaving?”

Pepper frowns. “What? No.”

“Because if you are,” Tony takes a deep breath, “I’m here to tell you why you should stay.”

“Tony, I’m not going anywhere,” Pepper stares at him, but he doesn’t move, so she pats the space beside her on the bed. “Come here.”

He does. He strips his suit jacket and shoes and untucks his shirt, sitting oddly distant from her, but she doesn’t reach for him. Her brain turns to mush, that same way it had when she’d first find out. _Okay._ Just acceptance, nothing more. A careful detachment. _Okay._

How does she say it?

She considers the words _I’m pregnant._

Tony reaches over and covers her knee with his palm.

“I’m pregnant,” she says and - oh, just like that.

Tony’s hand grips her knee fiercely. His eyes go wide.

“What?” He chokes out.

“I’m pregnant.”

Tony blinks.

Pepper swallows.

“Please say something.”

“Are you - “ He stops. His hand drops away from her knee. “Are you gonna keep it?”

Pepper frowns. That’s actually… not an option she’d considered, in all of her thinking. Strange.  

“I think so.”

“You think so,” Tony echoes.

“I don’t really know how I’m supposed to feel,” she confesses, and maybe that’s the crux of it, that this isn’t something she can _manage._ Babies are unpredictable. The baby is just another person she could lose, just like she could lose Tony every time he gets in that suit, and be left alone. “I’ve never really thought about kids. And now, with our lifestyle…”

“I get it.”

He’s disappointed, though. She can tell. He looks down at the sheets. She wishes she could reassure him, trace away the pain, but she refuses to start the beginning of their kid’s life on a lie.

“I’m scared, Tony,” she admits. Part of the detachment breaks away and she finds her breathing tight. “At my age, the baby’s open up to so many complications. Anything could go wrong. And even if I make it to full term, what’s to say the baby will be safe? I’ve seen how you are after a nightmare. I know what you’ve seen is… is terrifying. How can I bring a baby into a world with that risk? The risk of invasion, and the risk of losing you?”

Pepper gnaws on her lower lip. “But then I think… what if this is our only shot at this?”

Pepper takes a steadying breath.

“I have a copy of the scan,” she tells him. “If you’d like to see.”

Tony’s jaw is set. “Are you gonna keep it?”

“Yes,” she whispers at the same time she realises.

“Then yeah. Yeah, I wanna see.”

Pepper crosses the room, rooting to the bottom of her underwear drawer for the envelope she’d slipped there after her appointment. She’s not looked either yet. She joins him back on the bed, handing it to him, and he rips the envelope away to get to the scan inside.

She’s not sure what she expected his reaction to be. Though she knows he loves her, he’s never mentioned kids, and so she’d always presumed that they were in the same boat: that there was no time, that it was probably too late anyway.

And yet - his entire body blossoms into happiness. His smile is wide and beautiful, his eyes shining with a thin layer of tears, and his breath catches.

She almost envies him.

“Are you sure?” He asks, gripping the copy of the scan like his life depends on it. “Pep, are you sure?”

Pepper’s eyes drop, and for the first time, she allows herself to look at the scan of their baby. It’s a murky sea of black and grey. But she can make out the shape of their baby, she could reach over and cover it with the pad of her thumb, it’s so small. Yet -

It grounds her. Her breath catches, and she finds a thin layer of tears in her eyes.

Maybe this is the first time she has no clue what she’s doing, but -

“Yes,” she says finally. “Yes, I’m sure.”


End file.
